Page 65 of Until the Ink runs Crimson

I have no idea. But I know we’re walking through this together.

And that’s all that matters right now.

We’re here.

And the rest of the world is about to burn.

Chapter 26 – Lazaro

The rain lashes against the roof of the nearby warehouse, a relentless battering that drowns out the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. I stand near the entrance, soaked to the bone, my clothes sticking to my skin as the cold seeping through the dampness gets under my skin. The salty smell of the ocean mixes with the tang of iron and decay. The concrete beneath my boots is slick with water and blood—the same blood I swore to spill to get to this moment.

It feels fitting. Fitting that this all comes full circle here, at the docks where Noel’s severed head was delivered. The place where everything changed. Where my plans began to take shape.

It ends here. It ends where it began.

I look over at Calista. She’s standing a few paces away. The fire that burns in her is obvious, even without words. It’s the same fire that’s led us both to this point, and I can see it in her eyes now, sharper than ever.

"Renzo came through," I murmur, my voice steady as I turn to her. "The shipment’s coming."

"Good," she replies, her tone is stony and clipped like never before. "Let’s make sure it’s the last one."

Her words hit with precision. Every plan, every move we’ve made, all of it comes to this: Zano’s last shipment. His empire crumbling piece by piece, and Calista’s resolve getting stronger by the day. But Renzo… Renzo was the wildcard we didn’t expect to play in our favor. The thought of how this whole operation started to shift when we got that intel from him—it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, a twisted satisfaction in knowing how his greed worked to our advantage.

I think back to that moment when Renzo finally cracked. The smug bastard thought he could play both sides, but the second Calista laid the truth in front of him, the facade crumbled. He gave us exactly what we needed. He didn’t hesitate, though he was clearly unsure of which side of the blade to fall on at first. And when he told us what was coming, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief—the kind that you don’t even realize you were missing until it slams into you.

Renzo’s greed made him a liability to Zano, and now, it’s our gain.

I can’t shake the thought of how quickly he folded. He handed over the information—everything we needed to end this. The bastard had been sitting on a goldmine of intel about a shipment Zano was banking on to shore up his crumbling empire. It was supposed to be a major one—illegal drugs, weapons, and high-grade chemicals. He told us about the hidden caches—cocaine, heroin, synthetic opioids, and—most damning of all—military-grade explosives that were bound for U.S. ports through channels Zano had under his thumb. Materials for his arms smuggling. Drugs to feed the streets. And weapons to fortify his control.

With Zano's trusted cousin working for us, we have the leverage to not only crush Zano but also bring in the authorities to deal the final blow. The fall of the De Corsi empire is about to be publicly sanctioned.

"Those explosives, Lazaro," Calista’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "Once we get Zano, we inform the authorities. They won’t know what hit them."

I nod slowly, glancing at her, grateful for how sharp she is. "He’s in for a rude awakening," I murmur. "When the cops get wind of this shipment... they’ll be too busy chasing down the rest of his operations."

As the words leave my mouth, the gravity of the situation sinks in. This is how it ends. Zano’s empire will burn, and no one will mourn it.

We’ve been waiting for hours, anticipating the arrival of the shipment Renzo had tipped us off about. It’s supposed to be massive, one of the last remaining ones Zano’s counting on to fund his sinking ship. But the bastard’s faster than we expected. More ships. More boats. More men. They’ve arrived in the dead of night, and they’re not slowing down.

I signal to Ethan, Cain, and Aaron. They’re ready. This is the moment.

I notice Calista leaning against the SUV, watching them gear up in synchronized movements—so precise it’s almost eerie. Guns are checked, vests strapped, knives tucked. By now, it’s a ritual—practiced, familiar, repeated so many times it’s automatic.

Ethan catches her watching. He smirks slightly, then glances at Cain, who’s checking a rifle a few feet away.

“You know he pulled me out of a basement with a knife in my leg and six hours left to live?” Ethan says, voice low, almost casual. “Didn’t even blink. Carried me out himself, shot three guys on the way.”

Calista raises a brow, and he shrugs.

“I owe him more than blood. That’s why we follow him.”

Without looking up, Aaron mutters, “Same. Different story, same result.”

Then, everyone goes quiet and the men spring into action, moving quickly, like a well-oiled machine.

Cain perches high on the warehouse rooftop, his sniper rifle steady as ever. But there’s a cane beside him now, and the way he shifts his weight gives away the damage he’s still carrying from the tech store ambush. A bullet tore through his leg that day—shattered bone, exposed muscle. They tried to bench him after that, said he needed time to heal. He refused. Said he could still pull a trigger just fine—and he can. Ethan and Aaron fall in beside me, steps sharp and ready. We can’t afford to miss our window. This is what we’ve bled for. And we’re not letting it slip.

The first boat docks, the engines of the vessel growling as it lurches to a stop. Zano’s men spill out—too many to count. They’re armed, desperate, and moving like rats. I can see the fear in their eyes. They know this is it, the final delivery that’s going to decide everything. Thinking’s a luxury they can’t afford—only movement matters now.

---